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Pat Dryburgh

So a couple of weeks ago, after playing at North Park, one of the other musicians and his fiancé gave me a pet mouse. The mouse is really small, and really cute. He runs on his wheel really well, and generally just hangs out.

I have had friends in the past who have owned rodents, and my sister used to own a hamster. From those experiences, I had a preconceived notion of what owning a mouse would be like. For the most part, it’s been very similar, except for one thing. To me, one very important thing.

My mouse does not like to be held. I will try to put my hand in to put him in my palm, and he will run frantically around the cage to get away. I had a trick where I would get him to start running up the cage walls, which made it easier for me to grab him, but he’s figured that trick out. I’ll even put treats on my hand for him - cheese, cheereos, sunflower seeds - and still he won’t come. The odd time when I can manage to “catch” him, he runs all over my hands and arms, in an attempt to escape. He won’t eat the snacks even when he is on my arm. I usually have to place them in his wheel for him to eat.

Anyway, it’s been a fairly disappointing experience. Maybe next time I’ll stick with fish (who, surprisingly, also don’t like being held).

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